


How Much Tart Could A Treacle Tart Tart If A Treacle Tart could Tart Tart

by Eslon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 06:50:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20093077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eslon/pseuds/Eslon
Summary: Written for the Several Sunlit Days Challenge on the Hinny Discord.Thanks to TheDistantDusk and Liza for helping me with this fic.





	How Much Tart Could A Treacle Tart Tart If A Treacle Tart could Tart Tart

June 28th 1999

“Bloody Hell mate.” Ron’s mesmerised tone makes Harry grin, his eyes following Ron’s. “it’s perfect mate, they even look like league standard rings.“

“That’s because they are, Ronnie boy.“ George beams slapping his younger brother on the back. 

“And how would you know, George?“ eyeing his brother curiously. “I’m shagging a Harpy and Harry over there is also shagging a Harpy.“ For a split second, Ron’s face makes Harry think he’s going to be sick. 

“That’s our sister,“ he grunts.

“Excellent observation, dear brother of mine,“ George says before pulling out his wand and conjuring a well done sticker to put on Ron’s jumper. Unsurprisingly this only pisses Ron off more, stomping away as Harry and George start to laugh uncontrollably. 

Ginny saunters up to them a glint in her eyes, “Normally I’d ask why Ron is pissed, but Harry, we have a situation arising.” A slight smirk graces her lips. 

“LALALALALALALALA, I don’t need to know the details,“ George all but cries. 

“Actually George, you can come as well, Mum’s waiting on us,“ Ginny responds. They follow her to the edge of the garden and into the woodland they have. Getting there, they see Molly, Angelina and Fleur cooing over little bundles in their hands. 

“Looks like we have our first pets, Potter,“ Ginny says as a beautiful tabby cat circles her legs, the bundles they’d seen approaching turning out to be kittens.

“They’re adorable, George,“ Angelina says as he strokes a little a black kitten. 

By now, Harry is stroking the mother cat. “Want us to keep you, girl?“ 

She purrs and then rolls over to show him a gorgeous pattern on her belly. “I think she does, Gin. Look at her, she’s just like treacle tart, let’s call you Treacle… because who doesn’t love treacle tart?”

Off to his side, Ginny groans, “Oh for fu-,” however Molly cuts her off.

“Language Ginny!“ Harry looks over to her in confusion, but luckily for her Ron had appeared out of nowhere after Harry said “treacle tart” — in typical Ron fashion, his stomach growling wanting food, sending everyone meandering back to the house, felines in tow.

/-/-/

July 3rd 2000

Ginny sits at the small vanity desk in the Paris flat they’d rented off Fleur’s family. It’s their last night in Paris before Ginny heads off to Australia for the Harpies preseason tour. She bought a sleek green dress, short enough to give Aunt Muriel a heart attack. 

She’s fighting her temper. While she’d never been one for makeup, going to a wizarding restaurant (which had certain requirements to get a table and were still doubtful about her going there, then owling Harry whether she was worthy of stepping foot in the restaurant), had her teenage insecurities popping up. 

“Gin, you look amazing,“ Harry says, all but waltzing in. His new muggle suit had left her leaving high praise and he’d been positively buzzing since. 

“I want to look so good they name a dish after me, stupid prats,“ she grunts, now using her wand to curl her hair.

“Easy there Harpy, talons away,” Harry says teasingly, rubbing the tension out of her shoulders. “They just saw what Skeeter said about you, Fleur tore them a new one anyway.“ 

Finally ready, they apparate to the waiting room of the restaurant. “Mr. Potter, I am Oliver James, head chef here at Frangipane, come this way.“ 

Ginny scoffs as he barely gives her a second look, seemingly enamoured with her fiancé. Tuning out the chef’s random babbling, she glances around the restaurant. Clearly it’s expensive and nice, but not as beautiful as Ginny would’ve expected for the fuss they’d kicked up about her entering it.

Turning a corner, they see a line of immaculately dressed men; more than likely these were investors wanting “The Boy Who Lived“ to join or promote their business. “Mr. Potter, these are some of our kind investors,” Oliver James announces; they all shook Harry’s hand, making slight small talk.

Finally letting Harry step away, the “main“ investor speaks up. “Whilst the rest of these guys don’t know who the beauty with Mr. Potter is, I do.” He steps up to Ginny, offering his hand. “Miss Weasley, I am Michel Morgan. I own the Paris Phoenix’s, and I was wondering if I could tempt you to our team.“ To her right, she sees the poncey Chef’s eyeballs bulge. 

“No, I’m quite happy at the Harpies, and if I wanted to go to a team unable to win I’d join the Cannons,“ she says in a professional tone. 

Her comments were clearly disrespectful as the Chef had gone very pale. “Miss Wesley, you must apologise to him immediately,“ he practically shouts.

“No I don’t, Mr. Morgan, and if I were you I’d be writing a letter to the Harpies to apologise for this illegal approach of one of their players.“ She doesn’t hide the disdain in her tone. 

This clearly irritates the Chef more. “Miss Wesley, you cannot speak to him, like that making out that he did something wrong.“ 

She rolls her eyes, “My name is Weasley, and because of your attitude, Mr. Morgan this will be reported to the Harpies who would love to inform FIQA of your illegal approach of a player.“ 

The investors quickly disappear, leaving only her, Harry and the pompous-arsed Chef. “We’d like to eat please.“ Harry says.

The Chef stammers, “I’d love for you to eat here Mr. Potter, but she can’t; now Mr. Potter, we have the brand new The Boy Who Lived Treacle Tart being cooked right now, Mr. Potter.“ He clearly was too high on his own voice to notice the pair slip away, because as he turns around to talk to Harry, he sees them apparate out of the room.

“Missed a bullet there,” Ginny says as they stuff their faces with McDonalds.

“I can’t believe they wanted to name it “The Boy Who Lived Treacle Tart”, nearly made me go off it,“ Harry grumbles. 

“One can get oversaturated with too much or too little.”

Harry nods his head in agreement. “Good thing neither of us has had our love of treacle tart ruined.“ 

Ginny just smiles at him. His love of treacle tart is too cute for her to let him down by not liking it.

/-/-/

July 16th 2004

Harry looks down desperately at his 3 month old son as he starts whimpering. But Harry can’t blame him. He glances down at his wife, who is sitting on the edge of the freshly dug grave for her closest brother. Her legs dangle over the edge, her body frozen still apart from the occasional shiver. 

Sensing his eyes on her, she turns her head, giving him a soft smile. “Give him here.“ Shifting back to sit cross legged, she gently takes her son off Harry, Harry moves to sit by her side. 

James is quiet as he lies in his mother’s arms, “He’d like it here, wouldn’t he Jamie? So quiet, and yet so full of life… you could look for hours for anything in here. I think that’s why Mum and Dad picked it. I’m glad your Aunt’s parents let them be buried together.“ She shakes her hair to stop him grasping it. 

“I wasn’t nice to Fleur, Jamie. I can’t believe I just didn’t trust Bill. He was always the sensible one. Do you think she hates me for it, Harry?“ She shifts her eyes to him, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

“A famous witch once said, Potter it’s not your fault. And now it’s not your fault. You were wanting the best for your brother and the only experience you had of her was boys falling head over tail for her. I know you two hashed it out.” Nodding, she slides over to Harry to rest her head on his shoulder. 

“I knew they chose us as godparents, but I thought they’d want Mum and Dad or Fleur’s parents to actually look after Tori if something happened.“ 

Harry gives her a small chuckle. “You were his favourite sister, he always said so.“ 

“I was his only sister.” She gives a tentative smile, but it leaves as quickly as it comes. “I can’t believe they’re gone.“ Slowly she breaks down again. “He was the one who’d pay attention to me, the twins enjoyed annoying Ron, Percy was Percy and Charlie was Merlin knows where adventuring… but Bill, Bill would cancel plans with mates even in his seventh year if I asked him to play.“ Her body now starts to shake as she sobs. “The first thing he did with his paycheck from Gringotts, his first one, not a random one, his very first one, was buy my Gwenog Jones poster and buy me a Harpies scarf. He should’ve bought something for himself but he bought stuff for me. Why Bill why did you have to die, you and Fleur deserved to see Tori grow up and have more kids!“ She buries her head into Harry’s shoulder.

Harry holds her eyes, flashing back to the night, the muggle police showing up at their house, “Sorry sir, but William and Fleur Weasley were killed in a traffic collision this evening when the taxi they were in was hit by a bus.“ He went upstairs in a state of shock, waking Ginny out of her sleep. Holding her as she sobbed and then holding her as she and Arthur identified the bodies. And then at 3:30 in the morning as the Weasley family grieved, Victoire in Ginny’s lap, not being able to comprehend what happened to her parents. 

The sun starts to fade they’ve been sat near the graves for what feels like hours, Harry’s quite sure Ginny and James are asleep by now. Eventually James decides he’s hungry and as Ginny blearly opens her eyes at her sons cries as her stomach growls, they trundle back to the Burrow in a compatible silence.

The Burrow is incredibly silent. They’d all eaten in silence and now most were in hushed conversations. James is in Ginny’s old room asleep. Ginny can’t help but smile as Harry carries a plate of treacle tart out. He plonks down in the chair with her. “I was hoping you’d wanna split it.“ His eyebrows bounce into his hairline. 

“It’s too sweet for me tonight, I think I’ll be sick.“ Before Harry can reply, James lets out a cry, “Enjoy your supper, I’ll go see to James.“ 

She gets out of her chair, pulling her Weasley sweater over her hands. As she gets to her landing she sees the door open, and then hears her niece trying to hush James. Ginny spins around like a deer in headlights. “Aunt Gin, It wasn’t me, he was already crying, I didn’t do it, I was scared he was hurt,I promize.“ Her blue eyes filled with tears.

“Tori, I know it’s fine, want to stay with me whilst I change him?“ 

Victoire nods her head slowly. 

Ginny’s suspicions were right, and with a changed nappy he was settling down. “See Tori, he’s fine now.” Ginny crouches down to show her a peaceful James.

“He’s really cute,“ she says, looking up at Ginny. 

“He is, it’s all me though, not Uncle Harry,“ Ginny says, earning her a giggle from Tori.

Ginny slowly stumbles down the stairs, and hears a whispered discussion in French. Her French isn’t he greatest, but she does recognise her and Harry’s names. Usually she would let them carry on whilst she makes a cuppa, however with James starting with a fever and the events of the last week, she’s happy to go to battle. 

Her mood isn’t helped when she walks into the kitchen and both Monsieur Delaclour and Apolline Delaclour’s heads snap to her. Ginny thinks, slightly humorously, Clearly they aren’t complimenting my quidditch career then. 

“I know you have a problem Bill and Fleur naming me and Harry as Victoire’s guardians in their will, any reason for that?“ She doesn’t bother looking at the pair, focusing on making a much needed cuppa. 

“Belle and Fleur, zey clearly weren’t thinking right, trusting you two to be ze parents of our grandchild,” Apolline says haughtily. A glance to her left she can see Monsieur Delaclour nodding his head in agreement. 

“Ok. I’m gonna be nice because I understand your daughter died, but it seems like you are saying me and my husband are bad parents. I don’t care if you don’t think I’m a proper woman because I played quidditch. However, me and Harry are excellent parents and the fact you are calling us bad parents is rude. I didn’t ask for them to name us as guardians and I didn’t expect my brother to fucking die either, but shit fucking happens. I don’t know if you think we will deny you of seeing your granddaughter, we aren’t. Now I’m gonna go back to bed because my son is starting with a fever and I have no intention of talking with you any longer.” She storms to the door before turning to the couple. “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

/-/-/

July 22nd 2007 

The flames of the Burrow’s floo erupt as Ginny stumbles out, stress evident on her face. Molly quickly bustles in from the living room. 

“Ginny, love how’s Harry?“ Pushing her daughter down into a chair, she places a large cup of tea in front of her. 

“He’s fine for the most part, stupid prat, sprinting head on into a hippogriff enclosure. The prat should’ve waited five minutes for the squad to get it, but instead he startles the poor thing in his hurry, clearly forgetting everything Hagrid told him, and it knocked a tree over, only the outer branches landed on him, luckily,” Her eyes are wide as she explains to Molly the state of her husband in near silence. 

“Hagrid can have words with him after I do, dear.” 

Ginny glances around noticing for the second time near silence, and complete lack of small children flying at her. “Mum, erm where’s my kids at, it’s too quiet for my lot.”

Molly lets out a quiet laugh. “Jamie and Tori are asleep upstairs and Albus is with Apolline, she seemed quite shook up when you got a call from St. Mungo’s.” 

Ginny nods carefully, still unsure on the older woman. “I think she won’t mind watching over Al while I take Tori and Jamie to see Harry.” 

Molly reaches across the table to take her daughter's hand. “Of course not.”

It wasn’t easy taking Tori and James through the floo, but eventually they maneuver through the hospital ending up at Harry’s room. Cautiously knocking on the door, both children's faces light up when Harry says for them to come in.

They’d been there for a little over an hour when George and Angelina come to pick up the kids. “Hey Potters and little Weasley we have treacle tart from Grandma Molly for Harry,” George begins. “Hopefully, you’ll trade the kids for the dessert.“ George is beaming, his bright blue suit and top hat making him stand out in the painfully white hospital. 

“If Angie wasn’t with you then I’d be unsure, but that sounds like a fair trade to me,“ Ginny says, hugging George and Angelina, then watching as Victoire and James reluctantly leave Harry’s side.

She gives both of them a big hug as they leave, turning back to Harry, tears welling in the corner of her eyes. “Going soft on me Weasley?” Harry grins from the bed.

“Shut it Potter, you’d done so well; this is the first time since Bill died you’ve been here. I’m not used to having the kids fuss over you, and it’s cute, but like cute one time not multiple times Potter, so don’t go getting any ideas now,” she says, crawling onto the bed next to him.

“Split the treacle tart for once, Gin?” 

She shakes her head against his chest. “You eat it all like a good boy, now.” She turns her body more into his side. “I’m gonna have a nap.”

/-/-/

August 8th 2008

Harry wearily enters his home; a long stakeout means it’s close to midnight by the time he gets home, and he’s surprised to see the kitchen light on. Ginny’s usually long asleep by this time. Peeking through the open door, he sees Ginny demolishing what looks like the large dish of treacle tart that Molly had sent him for his birthday. 

Pushing the door open, she freezes like a deer in the headlights. 

“M’sorry Harry, I just had a crav-” She freezes, slowly looking up at Harry. ”I hate treacle tarts, Harry,” she says, as if just realizing what she’s oing. “I think I’m pregnant.” 

Harry quickly drives to the local 24 hour shop and buys pregnancy tests, dropping them on the table as Ginny devours the second treacle tart she had asked for as well. They sit in the kitchen clanging spoons as they wait for the test. Picking it up cautiously, Ginny nods. “I think it might be a girl,” she whispers. 

“Ginny,” he mumbles an hour later, the bright moonlight washing over their bodies. She gingerly looks up from her comfy pillow.

“Yes, love.” Her attention flicks to his body, shining from the moon, a hungry glint in her eyes appearing. 

“You said you hated treacle tart, you don’t do you?” His green eyes flash, his cheeks colouring.

“I guess the jig’s up. I’ve never liked treacle tart, when I was younger I ate it and threw up and I held a vendetta and then when I was 12 I saw your love for it and I hoped you’d look at me with such love and admiration.” She only pauses o slap his arm when he starts to chuckle. 

“I was jealous of treacle tart, you were jealous of my broom so you have no leg to stand on, but when I was with you I realised…” Her hand moves to cup his cheek. “That it is fucking adorable.” Her hand now traces his scar on his chest. “And I love it when you’re adorable.” She leans into gently kiss him, however he’s too quick and has her straddling him before she can react.

“Hi.” Harry beams.

“Hey,” Ginny breathes huskily.

/-/-/

July 7th 2019

“Hey Maman. Hey Papa,” Victoire whispers sitting down at the graves. “It’s been 15 years, Merlin it’s gone quick. I miss you guys so much, I don’t remember much of the day and I feel like absolute fucking shit for it and not understanding, I know I was 4. I remember being more freaked out about Mum… er, Aunt Ginny back then crying, bloody hell that scared the crap out of me, she was supposed to be a fucking invincible Harpy champion If you didn’t know they don’t cry... but she sat in the Burrow holding me as she cried, and Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur, Grand-mère and Grand-père, the rest of the family.” 

She glances down at her, wringing hands. “I wasn’t surprised to see Harry cry.” She pauses, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief which Ginny gave her, saying how it was Bill’s.

“I hope you don’t hate that I call them Mum and Dad. I don’t think you do, thank you for having them look after me, they truly are the best second parents I could’ve asked for. You should see little Jamie now, I gave him a lot of detentions over the last few months as head girl. Albus William is at Hogwarts too; he’s a Slytherin. I all but pissed myself at James’s face when he got announced. Lily is the most amazing little girl. I wish you’d given me a little sister but she’s wonderful and she just went to France with the muggle school for 2 weeks. I was shitting bricks worried about her, I don’t know how Mum and Dad coped.

“Which leads me to say I think Potter baby number 4 is on the way. You know the famous Ginny who hated treacle tart? Well, I caught her eating some this morning. I hope they do, I know they love kids around the house and when I saw Ginny at the Harpies tryouts when Lily was away and all of us weren’t at home, she didn’t stop going on how she missed having to be busy.”

“Your daughter is terribly smart Bill, and that probably all comes from you, Fleur,” Ginny says with a knowing smile as she pushes the branches out of the way. “Auntie Luna says hi,” she drops down next to Tori, picking at the grass, 

“Potter number 4 is on the way guys, I’m fucking scared.” She glances to Victoire for a moment and continues. “I’m bloody 38, and it’s not being pregnant that scares me, it’s when I found out I thought I want to do this a few more times, not Mum levels, but 5 or 6 would be nice.” Ginny laughs to herself, thinking of her mum and the chaos she endured with seven children. “Although I doubt I’ll be saying that in 6 months time, I’ll leave you to it, I’ll go tell Fred the good news.” Tori watches her go, a warm smile on her face.

“I want to be inside when she drops that bomb, so I’ll drop my bomb because there is two big announcements now I guess. I’m in the England national team for the upcoming world cup, Ginny told me last night, I hope you’re proud of me. I know Papa you’d have wanted me to be a curse breaker and Maman you would’ve wanted me to do what makes me happy, I’ll come back after we win it to show you the trophy, I love you guys.”

/-/-/

June 23rd 2024

“We have a big day tomorrow Mia,” Ginny says to her 4 year old daughter. “Daddy comes home from his conference in Spain, Lily and Albus come home, James should be bringing Megan and Victoire will probably come with them, shame Teddy is still in Brazil. Mia is by this point nodding excitedly at her family coming, her black hair so similar to her Dad’s bouncing.

Turning to the cupboards looking for ingredients, “I think we should make a batch of treacle tart—“ The windows of the kitchen shatter and Ginny dives to her daughter; after a few seconds, she looks around, meeting her own brown eyes, untroubled by the explosion of glass.

“I don’t like treacle tart.” Mia’s arms are crossed a second away from a tantrum.

She expects to get yelled at, but Ginny just laughs and cleans up the glass before doing a little dance in the kitchen.

“Yay Mia!” Picking up her daughter, Ginny twirls her around the room. “Let’s make brownies!” Her laughter gets a delighted squeal from Mia.

The sound is overwhelming a few days later, all the family is enjoying the summer, Arthur enjoying Harry’s state of the art BBQ. 

Ginny is the only one who isn’t enjoying the sun her head on a swivel, she hadn’t seen Harry in a week and something important had popped up and she needed his presence.

Of course he’s an auror and sneaks up on her and Mia as they watch the cats eye the fish in the pond, the subtle charm keeping the fish save. 

“Hey girls, care to explain why I can’t see any of your lovely treacle tart,” dropping a kiss on Ginny’s lips and on Mia’s cheek, “ Me and mummy don’t like treacle tart so we made brownies.” Ginny gives him a coy smirk as he his face pales, knowing now he can no longer convince Ginny to make him one with Mia on her side.

Taking me from Ginny’s arms, he looks into her brown eyes, “You and your mummy have me wrapped around your little fingers don’t you?” 

“You love it Dad,” Tori calls.


End file.
